The Brooding Dragon
by Shurpuff
Summary: Rias and the others hate their current lives as wives to a cruel fate; Issei just wants something more from his prison. Will love win out and allow them to peer past the masks, or will they choke beneath their weights? AU/harem
1. Rias 001

The room echoed with the frequent moans and sighs. Shrouded in darkness, two bodies melted together in passionate bliss, rocking the bed beneath them over and over.

Red hair flashed, sweat-ridden, as their bodies moved with reckless abandon. Meek, breathless sighs escaped their lips as their lovemaking intensified, turning their congress into a full-blown rut.

They pushed and they pulled; they advanced and retreated. Round and round they wove webs of pleasure around their lover, mutually creating a self-driving bond that kept them surging onward, ever onward, onto the peak. And when the peak came, they screamed each other's names, as a fountain of pleasure exploded in their minds, and in the very depths of their being.

Though they would fade to sleep, cradled snugly in each other's arms, their post-coital bliss lasted for but a short while only. Following an unspoken signal that the two had agreed upon many times already, they unclasped themselves from the other, and then both of them went, bare naked, inside the bathroom.

Sometimes their lusts would return enkindled inside, but today they made do by frenching each other under the shower, while scrubbing each other off. Then, after drying off, they each separated, reclaiming their clothes from the floor. The woman went to the vanity and turned on the light over the mirror there.

When they were nearly done, they glanced at each other, sharing a warm, fond look. No other words needed to be said. This was a strange sort of romance—this arrangement of secretive lovemaking and furtive glances. For a moment, each one seemed to want to speak, to say something meaningful to fill the silence—but, perhaps sensing the other one's words, they remained silent, and were thus denied whatever lay behind that imaginary conversation.

Each had a reason to meet the other, to sneak inside this hotel room and make love for the whole night, until their loins burned and their bodies ached with sweet, blissful agony. Each had a reason to never linger, to be thus dressed and ready to leave before the sunrise. Each knew the other held secrets, just as sure as they themselves did; and therefore respected the silence.

Still, they did avail themselves of a word, or two.

"Goodbye," was simple, but contained a mile full of feelings nonetheless.

"Goodbye, Issei," the red-haired woman said.

"Goodbye, Rias," the man said.

And with that, they left the room, and from there back to their own respective lives.

* * *

Outside, "Rias" slipped easily into a dark, abandoned alleyway. Before the stench of human filth could reach her nose, she had slipped further into another plane of existence: the "corridor" leading back to her home. After a few more steps, she was home—in a place so far removed from that which she had left.

"Welcome home, my lady," said the maids awaiting her in that room. The room was luxurious, with sumptuous furnishings that spoke of great wealth.

"Rias" nodded imperiously, shedding the mortal form she had worn as the maids scrambled to wrap her in her ordinary garments. Behind the façade, she was no human, but a fearsome Devil, daughter of Hell, and as such it was but fitting to outfit herself in the appropriate attire. Gone was sweet, sultry Rias—as one mask fell off, another took its place. A veil was placed over her features, shrouding her form in ambiguity, as the maids finished up with the rest of her embroidered, bejeweled attire in royal purple.

To complete the ensemble, as well as underline her identity, she unfurled her great, bat-like wings behind her, proclaiming her identity as a powerful denizen of Hell.

"A message awaits you, my lady," one of the maids said. "If it pleases you."

Rias was quick to slap her. "You dare imply I would ever decide otherwise, whelp."

The maid bowed, apologizing profusely, as the others only looked on silently. She felt sorry for the maid, but she would never appear as if she hated her current status. She did; but she would never reveal it to anyone, least of all some maid.

For there was no room for weakness when one served—and was married—to the Last Dragon.

Long ago, during the War in Heaven when Angels, Devils and the Fallen warred with each other, a great power arose and threw everything in disarray. The mightiest pantheons in creation arose to combat this threat. Not even all the hosts of Heaven and Hell could contain the threat. It seemed only the Great Dragons working together could contain the new threat, and it wasn't even enough.

This threat was an "alien god", a great, overpowering presence that fed on energies that were not of this plane. None of their attacks, steeped in the energies of this world, had any effect, nor could any magic old and new counter it. It washed forward, relentless like a tide, swallowing everything in its path. If it was not stopped, then the mortal world would fade, and everything else along with it.

Rias sat at her desk, and activated the small communications orb. An image of her fellow wife appeared, dressed in the full ornamented armor of one of Odin's valkyries.

"Lady Gremory."

"Lady Rossweise," she greeted in return.

"The arrangements for the new wife's arrival have just about reached completion. Was there anything else you wanted to add?"

_A sign to tell everyone else in this damn world to stop sending women here_, Rias thought blandly to herself. Nothing she could do now. "No, there is nothing. Can I trust you to oversee the rest?"

"O-of course!" the valkyrie stuttered. It was strange—this one was markedly older in years than Rias, who was newly born Devil in comparison, yet she deferred to her readily as leader of the Last Dragon's harem. They all did, which was so much of a hassle sometimes.

"I shall see to preparing the household on my end," Rias said.

"Yes!" The image of Rossweisse disappeared.

In the end, victory against the Alien God was bought at a steep price. The Dragons of the world had all sacrificed their essences to banish it to the void, and contained the rest of its remaining power through many forbidden rituals into an egg—who would go on to become the Last Dragon. Last of his race, and wielder of a dark and troublesome power: all the surviving pantheons thenceforth agreed to safeguard him.

The Dragons, after all, occupied a certain role in the supernatural cosmos. The wisest among the pantheons feared that should the Last Dragon die, the threads of reality may start breaking down, perhaps bringing an end to the supernatural. Thus, the newly born dragon was given the protection of virtually every interested god and demigod in the cosmos, a vital point of interest for everyone's mutual benefit.

There was also a secondary concern. The Alien God's remaining power had been sealed into the Dragon, and it could easily be turned against them to devastating effect. A malicious individual could exploit the Last Dragon's power for their own ends. The safeguards then, were as much to protect them as the Dragon, ensuring that no one else could misuse the power he represented.

And then, there was another concern. And that led directly to Rias' circumstances: when she was sold by her family to serve the Last Dragon as his broodwife.

The audience chamber was vast and wide, too big a space for just the two of them. Great weddings were held here, on the occasion when another wife was offered to the Last Dragon. But the rest of the time it remained desolate, as the Last Dragon refused to hold court, and remained as aloof and secretive as the day she'd met him. On the far end of the chamber was an empty throne, upon which the Dragon was expected to sit. He wasn't there, just as Rias expected, which meant that he was sleeping. And she didn't want to wake a sleeping dragon.

She sighed behind her veiled mask. After tonight, the room would once more be awash in festivity as delegates from all corners of the world came to witness yet another woman thrown into the Last Dragon's jaws. Yet another sacrifice to ensure the Dragon's compassion, complicity—and something else.

Technically speaking, the "marriage" to the Last Dragon was a series of contracts that would bind her forevermore to him. The Gremory clan had seized the opportunity to plant her in the household as a member of the harem. Thus, at a young age she had been forced to give up her aspirations to become a powerful, influential Devil, in order to become the Dragon's faithful, obedient servant. She had succeeded in fulfilling her family's ambition—becoming head of harem after the previous one had passed.

She was not alone in this. The Dragon had a harem of wives all sold to him for various reasons. And all of them were pushed upon him ostensibly to serve as companionship for an individual as important as the Last Dragon, but also for something else.

Rias had realized it soon after she herself had been married. There had been whispers and rumors from her family, and her friends, but actually being in the harem itself had confirmed it: the dark secret of the Last Dragon's palace.

The divinities, ever looking towards the future, were ever concerned about the Last Dragon's precarious place in the tapestry of the cosmos. Ever they sought for the solution to the Last Dragon's conundrum: to remove that title of "Last" from him by making him breed a new brood.

Without viable females of his own to mate with, the solution then was to attempt it using every other female supernatural entity available, from Devils to Angels to youkai, to gods. But attempting to breed with such a creature, let alone one filled with the Alien God's power, was something that was discovered to be hazardous to one's health—even fatal. Biologically, nothing was wrong, as the Dragon could shapeshift as needed. But there was something in the seed, something that ignited a destructive power when conception occurred. The woman's energies would continue to leak and burn, like a rapidly dying star, and when it ran out so did her life.

Over the centuries, the Last Dragon's harem went through hundreds of wives, with a certain number attributed to dying from the sheer effort of conception. And still, the divinities continued.

Rias was but the latest in the line of Devils sent to attempt what seemed impossible—or die in the process. The only thing that seemed different now than when she'd replaced her predecessor, was the fact that the Last Dragon seemed aloof and distant. He hadn't even taken her, nor anyone else in the new harem, to bed.

And yet still there remained many, especially those in her own family, who continued to press Rias to seduce the Last Dragon, and be the one to succeed. And she was not the only one in the harem who had these expectations.

This only built up a continuous pressure upon their minds, grinding them down relentlessly until something broke. It was even more apparent among the wives, who were completely isolated from former friends and families; and forced to work day after day at a place where one was certain to die. The worst of them grew mad; Rias was glad she hadn't gone too far. Still, arranging an "affair" in the mortal world was definitely something a proper Devil shouldn't do.

As she walked back to her own chambers, she allowed her thoughts to carry her back to the memory of last night, when Issei's strong hands had been wrapped around her, making her feel safe.

It had been an idea spread around the harem. A little morsel, a little glimpse, of an act so bold that in any other arrangement it would have been scandalous. But in their present circumstance, and with the apparent disinterest of their "husband", all of them fell to the temptation. And so, Rias arranged her own little affair, her secret rendezvous with a mortal.

She had not thought much of the mortal she was set to meet at the start. All she knew was that the man was also aware that this was a fabricated situation, and that no other question needed to be asked during the transaction itself. She had been a virgin still, and was determined to shut down the man if he proved unworthy.

He was not. That first night had been something raw and magical, and completely unforgettable. The man had been an able lover, and had also become, in a way, someone who could receive all her pent-up fears and frustrations without complaint, almost like a friend. Hyoudou Issei was a man she knew nothing about, but by last night he seemed to be the only thing that was _right _with her whole accursed life.

And like someone addicted to a hobby, Rias burned for the day she could meet him again, and daydreamed of a time when they would postpone their fucking for something more substantial. A "date", perhaps, in the mortal world? Mortal diversions seemed trite and petty, but they were like an oasis to her current life, where she didn't know if she was going to die. Just imagining walking around with Issei, wrapping her arms around his and going around mindlessly made her cheeks flush.

No, that should be fine! In fact, she should do that. One day, her husband may just take her. And she might then die, perhaps. So it was important that she live for herself, even for a little.

Next time she should definitely propose that date. She only hoped the mortal understood. No, she knew he would understand. Despite only knowing him mostly through his prick, she could sense he was a kind soul. Giggling to herself like a giddy mortal schoolgirl, she began to plan.

* * *

It was a good dream.

"My lord? My lord?"

He opened his eyes. He saw the faithful magician, who had served him well. Her face brightened.

"Ah, you're awake! How was it?"

"It was a good dream," he muttered.

"How are you…" The magician hesitated. "…Are you feeling alright?"

"Ask your first question, conjurer," he grunted. "Feel free; I will not be insulted, I assure you."

"Ah… my apologies!" she cried, blushing. "I-I only meant to ask how you're feeling, my lord! Nothing more!"

"How I'm feeling…?" he muttered. "I felt a lot of things. Happy things. Joyful things. Painful things. Sad things."

"Sad?" the magician repeated. "Are you dissatisfied, my lord?"

"Why should I be? As I said, the dream was good. Altogether, it satisfied me."

The magician closed her eyes. "I… see…" After a pause, she said, "Would you like to hear the news, my lord?"

"No need. I see all. I see everything," he said darkly. "A new one, to fill my court. Another poor sacrifice, to ensure my loyalty to the terms. And another life wasted in service to me."

"Er… yes, my lord."

"Why look uncertain? It is exactly what I expected when you spoke to me of that mortal, and her mysterious powers. Sooner or later they would hear, and arrange all this."

"As you say, my lord." She lingered.

"Speak. You have something on your mind." Although he could have ripped the information straight from her brain, he preferred a lighter touch, especially if he knew the information would come freely.

"Only… have you ever thought of making the dream… bigger? Better?"

"What else would I dream about?"

"Even more happy things… and sad things too."

He considered it. On the surface, there were no downsides—only the promise of an even better dream. And judging by her track record, the magician could be trusted to fulfill her promise. "An intriguing proposition. Will you arrange it?"

"If you will it, my lord, I shall make it so."

If he'd still been Issei Hyoudou, the Last Dragon would have smiled. As it was, he stretched out his power, and plucked the magician from his chambers, as a sort of dismissal. She would be teleported safely back to her home.

His mind went back to matters of state. The Palace was his prison, and the city outside was filled with his jailors. But there were still people there, people genuinely living their lives as much as they could. Perfectly normal. He had to take control over the city's administration, to ensure that they were taken care of.

That was about the only good thing he _could_ do, in this unpleasant life.

Yet ever in the back of his mind was the image lingering from his dream. Of a red-haired woman, dancing beautifully in the dark. He had mated with her many times, but tonight…

Tonight, the dream had been somewhat different. He didn't know why. That he didn't know enraged and delighted him at once. He could not explain the inexplicable feeling that burned in the depths of his body. If he could be but Issei for much longer, be free from the shackles of obligation, from this gilded cage they wrought for him. To become just one face among many, delighting in the pleasures life could bring, instead of all the sadness.

"More…" he repeated the magician's wondrous word. "Yes… I want more."

* * *

**Apocrypha version (mature content) available below:**

**P atreon: Shurpuff**


	2. Akeno 001

The Last Dragon's royal audience hall was decorated once more with all the pomp and pride that could be summoned from all four corners of the supernatural realms. There were rich brass and silver ornaments from the underworld, wreaths and gold-wrapped candles from Heaven, rugs and chairs made from beasts that roamed the Nine Realms, priceless porcelain offered by the highest offices of the Celestial Court, sumptuous dishes and liquor from as far as Mesopotamia, Olympus, Egypt and Mesoamerica, and even some bizarre ornamentations from the isolated faerie courts and the shadow-gods of North America.

The Last Dragon sat at his throne, presently transformed into a humanoid form. He was no less imposing in this form. He wore a richly embroidered gown that glimmered like scales under the light. Wrapped around him like a thick coat was the sheer palpable presence of something alien and incomprehensible.

His bride sat near him at the couple's high table. She was also attired according to the present celebration—though underneath her robes and ornaments she seemed more like a tottering, top-heavy building about to fall over the edge than a blushing bride-to-be.

Neither the Last Dragon nor his bride had sent out invitations—the guests here practically invited themselves and their brethren to witness the ceremonies and feast heartily for a day. They would make merry and exchange gossip, catch up on old friends or spy on old enemies. And most of all, intrigue was ever afoot, and Akeno Himejima was well aware of the part she could have played here, had she not been married in the same way all those years ago.

She was her father's tool, and so by extension she was an agent of the Grigori—the organization composed of all the angels Fallen from grace. When her predecessor in the Dragon's harem had died, she was the perfect fit to replace her: a well-trained operative who could also be counted to be loyal to the cause. That last bit was important, as there were far too Fallen who'd struck out on some scheme or another, like the infamous Kokabiel. For Akeno, this would just be exchanging one mission for another, more long-term one.

Her current mission was still currently "on-hold": for neither had she been able to secure the title of leader of the harem, nor managed to entice the Last Dragon to be favorable solely to her. Yet given the open secret involving the fate of all who tried bearing the Dragon's children, she was secretly glad that her husband hadn't even looked at her once with lust.

Well, she was of two minds. She would have loved to be desired, and hopefully become the one to succeed where many failed. But death sounded quite troublesome, if she did fail.

Akeno spotted her father in the crowd, his large, muscled form silently following behind the boisterous leader of the Grigori, Azazel. She knew that such a display was a front—one would expect her father to be the adjutant that would secretly manage espionage while his superior mingled. But the opposite was true: Azazel was the one who directly engaged in sending and receiving coded messages from all he met, with Baraqiel mostly serving as "dumb muscle". That was not to say her father was dumb, but such high-level dealings were usually Lord Azazel's specialty.

They seemed to be heading her way. Akeno considered her options, then sipped her drink. Beside her, Rias Gremory, head of the Last Dragon's harem, was muttering nonstop under her breath.

"Unbelievable… To think they'd really stoop so low as to bring a human of all people…"

Rias was most likely referring to the new bride. She'd heard that this newest one was a genuine, 100% human. There was nothing strange about her heritage, strictly speaking.

Most of the magicians present in this hall were humans through and through, with only their magical might a testament to their inhuman qualities. And Akeno herself was a half-human, though her mother's line was intertwined enough with the supernatural that her human side was a small, insignificant sliver, barely to be mentioned. Really, the only objection Rias may truly have was the fact that there was yet another who had to endure the Last Dragon, someone else who would share this immense burden, to which she agreed wholeheartedly.

She said, "I wonder what sort of power she's got, that they would nominate her out of the blue."

There had already been quite a number of rumblings concerning the marriage before, mostly again centering on the surprise of the bride's mortal nature. Some rightly doubted that the woman could survive the strain of conception. Others balked simply at the mere prospect that a magic-less human, whose only notability was a mysterious ability, was ever considered as bride to the Last Dragon. In Akeno's opinion, she disliked most the notion of some poor dear joining them in their "slow death"—a notion coined by a fellow wife.

"Hmph." Rias' grunt was followed by, "It seems your leader's coming here to speak with you. I'll excuse myself for now, Akeno."

"My, you don't have to leave so soon, Rias," she said.

Her fellow wife shook her veiled head as she disappeared into the crowd. Just as she'd said, Azazel approached, arms wide, before taking her up in a hug. Ordinarily it was seen by others as just another one of the Fallen's odd quirks, but long-standing veterans knew nothing he ever did was not done without purpose.

"It is good to see you well, my dear," he greeted. The only thing she noticed was a faint touch at her back, near where bra clasp was. She made no outward reaction to it, and instead smiled brightly.

"Good day to you, sir Azazel. And to you, father."

"Akeno," her father said curtly, nodding.

"Why do you have to act so cold, man?" Azazel said, nudging the other Fallen in the ribs. "This is your _daughter! _You always said you missed her."

"Oh my, is that true, father? How sweet~" she said, with a chuckle.

A faint quirk of the lips told of her father's emotions. "Indeed. I _have _missed you, Akeno. Every day I pray for your continued safety."

"You know you can visit anytime, father," she said serenely. "You and anyone else. I asked my husband this, and he said he did not mind."

Her father coughed lightly. "Your husband is most generous. I will think of it. But then again, outside of today, we _are _quite busy." His and her eyes drifted to Azazel, who nodded to himself after watching the small interaction between father and daughter.

"I would invite you, but I know duty compels you, as wife, here. Perhaps we can talk later."

"I look forward to it," Akeno said, curtsying.

"Come, my friend," Azazel said, turning to her father. "Let us away and see if there are any untamed goddesses worth a tussle. If you will excuse us, my lady?"

"Do take care, my lords," Akeno said, seeing them off as they walked back into the feasting crowd.

She waited a few more moments, mingling with the crowd as she did so, before she had her maids excuse her to her rooms. After entering, she dismissed them, then sealed the room from all forms of entry and surveillance magics.

Then she took the slip of miniaturized clay that had been inserted into her bra strap and laid it on her palm. She examined it for a while, as a fit of nostalgia came over her. Such objects had been commonplace when she had been an agent of the Grigori. Slipping it into her bra was a very Azazel-thing to do, even though it was quite an old-fashioned method of transferring intel.

She swallowed the object, and closed her eyes.

"_Nice to see your instincts haven't faded yet, Akeno." _A virtual image bloomed before her, forming into the shape of her former boss, Azazel. The image had been superimposed upon her mind through the latent magic spell buried inside the object. When ingested, it triggered the recording buried within, like a video message beaming directly into her mind.

"I never thought I'd be receiving orders this late in the game," she responded. Even if it was a recording, Grigori spellmastery ensured that the recipient's queries could be answered without pause, leading to an unbroken flow of information, almost as if she were talking to the actual Azazel.

"_You weren't, and we'd have honestly preferred it this way. But there are some things that are about to happen, and we thought it best to involve you. Mind, there was some debate about this, because you're already far too buried inside the Dragon's Palace. But I decided to trust you._"

"You honor me…" Akeno said, cocking her head in confusion. "But if I may ask, what exactly do you mean?"

"_Recently we have received certain intelligence that greatly concerns the compact that had been formed long ago around the Last Dragon. As the compact's representative from the Grigori, I naturally got wind of it sooner than others." _Azazel's image sighed. "_It's a big, hot mess, believe me. As it is, we're still trying to evaluate the situation without committing. And then I realized—well, we still had you on the inside. It's the same with some of the others: no doubt Rias Gremory's also received instructions from her family by now, on behalf of the Devils._"

She didn't quite understand what Azazel was saying. But she could sense that he was being intentionally vague, as if he were expecting the recording to be intercepted.

"Then, what would you have me do?" Akeno asked.

"_Let me ask you first,_" Azazel said. "_What are the feelings you hold towards your husband_?"

She blinked. Feelings? What sort of feelings were those? She held no love for the Last Dragon, nor did she hate him—or at least she only disliked having to be married in the first place. He had not abused her, nor done anything towards her; then again, he hadn't so much as acknowledged her in the first place—as if she and the others truly did not exist. The Last Dragon had been completely indifferent, and that had led to Akeno reciprocating in kind. It had gotten to the point that she had even succumbed to the depravity that marked nearly all the Fallen when that scandalous idea had circulated among the harem. And yet, despite her great sin, the Last Dragon didn't look at her any differently.

"Nothing." She answered after a while. "Nothing at all."

"_That's… good, I think." _Azazel looked sad. "_My apologies for everything._"

"I accepted my role with full awareness sir," Akeno said, huffing.

"_Alright, alright, I appreciate that. Really, I do. We all do. Okay, so here's the gist of it:_" Then he told her.

At the end of it, Akeno was hard-pressed to wipe the shocked, wide-eyed look from her face.

* * *

The revelries were to continue for at least a few more hours, but the Last Dragon and his new bride were set to retire to the royal chambers. Ostensibly, this was to allow husband and wife to consummate their marriage on the marital bed. As Akeno watched the harem attendants guide the newest wife down the halls toward the palace's central area, she couldn't help but think back on her own experience as the wife presumptive.

She had felt very much anxious then, as the attendants had led her down unfamiliar halls. The braziers on the walls had been of little comfort, as they seemed as foreboding in their illumination. She didn't know what lay beyond the doors to the royal chambers—she had yet to glean the truth about the situation. She had been very much a blushing maiden, fearful and innocent and unaware.

Whatever the mortal was feeling now, she could definitely sympathize. She would sound it out later, when the harem formally met the new wife. Well, that also depended on the outcome of tonight. Would the Last Dragon ignore the mortal, as he had done to a number of wives before? Or would this mortal finally be the one to break the drought?

And if so, would she even survive?

Irina Shidou, her fellow wife, sidled up to Akeno's side. She was Heaven's representative: a relatively young Angel newly ascended to the Great Host. "They tried to hide it, but I witnessed Astaroth talking to the mortal," she whispered. "I'd lay odds he's the one—or whatever group he's with—who pressed for this marriage."

"So it was the Devils who suggested it, you think?" Akeno murmured back, glancing towards Rias.

"More than likely. However, there're some anomalies." A long silence followed. Akeno turned her head, and saw that the Angel had abruptly left as she had arrived.

"My my, that was certainly rude." The Angel was relatively simple and straightforward to read, but Akeno nonetheless kept her guard up. Still, Rias seemed to rely on her as much as she did herself or Rossweisse, which meant that the harem leader trusted her somewhat. At the thought of Rias, Akeno's musings returned to the new wife, who may or may not have been forced here by Devil intrigue.

Rias had been most upset when the news had arrived, which meant that even her family had not informed her. Given the status afforded to the one whose family had offered a woman to the Last Dragon, Akeno suspected the Gremory clan might not have been aware either. And since the Gremory clan ostensibly had the Underworld's official backing, this suggested a separate faction.

This, combined with the news that Azazel had given her, now sent Akeno's mind in a whirling, confused mess. Things were slowly moving forward, and gaining speed.

"Oh dear, I can't keep track of all these facades…" she complained to herself quietly.

That decided it. She was definitely going to see Issei tonight.

* * *

The Palace's Central Spire was his and only refuge. Towering far above the rest of the palace structure, its winding steps were filled with treacherous traps and constructs that had been placed there by every supernatural court. He had been born at the very top of the spire, unfurling his wings and uttering his first roar as he woke to his presumptive cage.

When he could learn to shapeshift, another room was built next to it—the royal chambers where he was supposed to sleep with his wife or any woman he "fancied". A long time ago, there had been many who had shared his warmth there, but now…

In his draconic form he could navigate through the treacherous upward path with ease. His wives and any other special visitors had to use a special path that only he could reveal—an "elevator" of sorts that brought them straight to his smaller room.

He could sense his new bride already ascending within that path. She smelled so scared, unlike the others, which had instantly spoiled his mood, not that it had been pleasant at the start. He didn't know what the old ones were scheming, and he didn't much care. He just wished they would stop; for all their sakes, but as long as they held the keys, he had to do whatever they wanted.

Ordinarily he would have waited in the "bathroom", until his new wife arrived. She would have already been informed to prepare herself on the bed, like she were a new present ready for him to be unwrapped. His younger self had been intrigued by such a comparison—even viewing his earlier wives as such—ah, but there he went, dredging up painful memories. He shook his head.

No, she could wait on the bed for as long as she wished. He wouldn't care if she didn't even do that. He was sure the Gremory would see to educating her about this place, along with the rest of his harem.

He went out into his other, bigger chamber, large enough to fit his draconic frame. He would much prefer to slumber here, and dream.

For lately his dreams had been much more colorful and wonderful than his reality. The magician was a master of her craft. What use had he of this cage?

He closed his eyes.

* * *

**Apocrypha version (mature content) below**

P atreon: Shurpuff


	3. Koneko 001

"Lady Koneko, it is time to wake."

Koneko groaned, burrowing deeper under the covers, away from the bustling voices of her maids. Like a cat seeking the succor of warmth, she rubbed her whole body into the bedsheets, desperate to eke out as much heat as she could.

"Lady Koneko?"

"Alright, alright, I'm up…" she all but hissed. Her eyes flashed open. She stretched her limbs and crawled out from under the covers, eyeing her maids ruefully. She held out her hand, and one of the maids placed a small piece of candy on top of it. She swallowed it; letting it melt in her mouth before she nodded and rose from the bed completely, shaking her tail loose from sleepiness as the maids began to ready her clothes.

Much as she wanted some more time for herself, being one of the Last Dragon's wives necessitated a certain obedience to proper protocol. As his wives, it was vital that the Palace was run in a strict and exact manner, according to rules laid down since the Last Dragon hatched.

Not that the Last Dragon himself had ever decreed such things as necessary—knowing that guy he'd as much prefer to be left alone in his tower than dictate how his household was run.

As the bridal representative of the various yo-kai clans of the Far East, Koneko Toujou occupied a not insignificant status among the current batch of wives. However, she'd been unable to fully dominate the harem as had been expected of her—that honor had gone to Rias Gremory, a woman she respected.

After a light breakfast, most of the wives met at the parlor, where they and their respective retainers were arrayed around the room. The atmosphere in the room was alike to a war council, hidden behind silken skirts and perfume. It was markedly different from the wedding reception that had occurred just last night, where everyone tried to be on their best behaviors and put up a gay smile.

"Koneko will attend to the new arrival this time?" someone asked.

"Yes," she announced. "Leave it to me."

"It is good to see a yo-kai can be depended upon."

She ignored that jab, and idly played with her nails. Too often there was a need to put down those who came from vastly different supernatural stock, which often lead to heated arguments among the harem. Unfortunately for them, Koneko was the sort of cat who nursed grudges for a long term, and only if she really felt like it.

"Have her caretakers been readied?" she asked instead. "Have they been briefed?"

No one answered. Even Rias looked troubled, hesitant. The silence continued until Akeno Himejima leaned forward in her chair and said, "She doesn't have them. Not a single one."

The others looked among themselves. "How can this be?" "She doesn't have one?" Questions were murmured, back and forth.

"As expected," Rias said, sighing. "She is just a human, after all."

Everyone knew that from last night. But everyone had also expected that her entourage—that is to say, the maids and servants who would attend to her and be integrated into the Palace—would also have been arranged. Yet it appeared that none of it had been prepared beforehand, leaving the Last Dragon's wives dumbfounded. On the surface it was a mark of shame, especially for the faction who had forwarded the woman to become a wife. The need to overcome that label had been the sole reason for the many lavish things that had accompanied a wife's entry into the Last Dragon's household.

Koneko herself was curious as to why. After all, the human had not come to petition the Last Dragon to become his wife. It had been arranged for her by certain high-profile individuals of the supernatural world—like the ones involved in the Dragon Compact. One would have thought they would have prepared everything else that the new wife needed, but apparently that was not the case.

"For the time being, I shall offer a couple of my maids to serve her," Rias said.

"And I volunteer mine own as well," said another wife, a little too quickly in Koneko's opinion. But if she wanted to curry favor with the top wife, then more power to her.

"Then I shall offer one of mine own servants as guard," said Rossweisse, the Valkyrie.

"I believe that shall suffice for now," Rias said with a nod. "But this shan't be a permanent state of affairs, mind. We must treat the human just as if she was any other who was accepted into the Last Dragon's demesne. As such I expect the best behavior to be accorded to the newest and youngest of our number, as we expect her to do the same."

_Fat chance of that, _Koneko thought. The mere fact that she was a lowly human, and the youngest one at that (relatively speaking) meant the poor wife was going to be navigating a shark-infested sea. And she doubted Rias herself would be actively monitoring the situation, given her role as head of the harem.

With the meeting adjourned, Koneko snapped her fingers for her maids to follow her as she headed straight for the Last Dragon's tower.

* * *

Ordinarily, one would reasonably expect the aftermath of a wedding night to be somewhat "messy". But as in her own experience, and the experience of the wives who came before and after her, the actual reality was much different.

The bride sat through the whole night inside the bridal chambers, waiting for a groom that would never come. Bewilderment, relief, disappointment, insulted—such were the emotions that went through each new wife's minds as they begun to realize the reality of being married to the Last Dragon.

Koneko for her part had gotten bored and had been playing a game of cat's cradle all by herself until the night ended. Eventually, she had gotten very much drowsy, and it was in that state that she had been found by Akeno the morning after. It was then that she discovered the truth about it all, and the massive irony that was their current lives: to be married to a creature who did not at all want them.

She had her attendants knock on the door. When there was no answer, she had them check inside the room before her. If there was indeed any unpleasantness inside—or if the impossible happened, that her husband was inside—she wanted to be prepared for it.

The attendant returned, shaking her head. In a way, Koneko was relieved. She poked her head inside the room. Then, she sighed.

The newest wife, the human, still dressed in her wedding clothes, was fast asleep on the bed, her body completely slack and helpless. Aside from that, the rest of the room was undisturbed, showing no sign that the Dragon had ever entered.

She waved, and her attendants started bustling all over the room, swiftly removing the decorations placed there for the wedding. Then Koneko went to the bedside, staring at the blonde for a brief moment, before she cleared her throat. She snapped her finger.

"Wake."

It was cheating to use magic like this, and was bad manners for anyone else, but the target was a human, who was presumably unaware. The blonde's eyes snapped open, looking around fearfully before she zeroed in on her.

"Hi, Asia Argento," she greeted.

"H-h-hello," the human said, sitting up and drawing her dress around her like it would protect her.

"Just so we're clear, the Dragon never visited you after you got here, correct?" she asked.

"Err… no, I was just told to wait here, so I did what they asked…" That would have been Rossweisse, who had been her escort. "Um… Was there something I did wrong?"

She cocked her head. "Wrong? No. But perhaps you should be cursing your misfortune, that you got into this mess in the first place."

"Misfortune?"

"Tell me… Why exactly did you agree to this? You weren't forced, were you?" Despite recognizing the intricate backdrop of the whole situation, and that the circumstances required this whole arrangement; she still held a dim view of the whole situation, most especially if there was someone who'd been forced.

Asia looked down. "The angels told me that this was supposed to be an important job for someone of my skills. And they've already done so much for me—I couldn't just refuse. And I also knew, I mean, I was told beforehand that the Last Dragon would probably not care for me."

Koneko was taken aback. "What? Who told you?"

"Someone, I can't say," she said, shaking her head. She put her face in her hands. "Oh, but what a relief…"

"I don't see whatever relief you're talking about," Koneko drawled. "You're still married to him, like all of us. Like us, you are bound, body and soul, to that Dragon, through inviolable ritual and vow. Maybe sometime in the future his appetites will finally occur to him, and there is nothing that will stop him from partaking in you—or in any of us."

Fear returned to Asia's face. "H-h-has that ever happened?" she asked. "Has he ever…?"

Koneko shrugged. "Not to my knowledge. And every day I pray that the opportunity does not come. But it just might. Well, enough of that. I'll not be burdening you at this point. Though I am here to welcome you, as it were, to the 'family'."

"'Family'?"

"Yes, to all your fellow wives in the harem," Koneko said. She noticed the look on her face. "What is it? You don't like it?"

"No, I do not," Asia said, a little boldly for someone who was a mere human. "God has written that man may only love one and no other. This 'harem' goes against one of His teachings."

"I'm sensing a 'but' here," Koneko said wryly.

Asia sighed. "But I know this is the domain of beings far wiser than I. I may not like it, but I shall serve as my Lord Dragon's faithful wife, no matter the circumstances."

"Well, as you have plainly experienced, he's not one for indulging, our lord husband," said Koneko. "So maybe your wish will be fulfilled, from a certain point of view."

Asia still looked unconvinced, but Koneko had had enough of this kind of talk for the day. "Regardless of your feelings," the young youkai said bluntly, "It is protocol that the new wife be introduced to the rest of the harem, whereupon we can then decide on what role you'll be taking in the Palace."

"Role?"

"Yes," Koneko repeated, sighing. "We are as birds stuck in one big cage, so we do our best to entertain ourselves with good manners and elaborate rituals, just so we can endure one more day as the Last Dragon's wives. So, without further ado, welcome to the harem, Asia Argento. I do hope you can fit in."

* * *

After her attendants gave her a fresh change of clothes, Koneko then gave the human a tour of the whole place. She introduced her to practically all of the wives, who did not miss the chance to preen and show off their splendor. Koneko saw these as an attempt to intimidate the newest wife, which on the whole seemed to work, based on Asia's reactions.

But she did react more positively to the wife representative from heaven: the seraph Irina.

"I am sorry," Asia said, prostrating before the angel. "I have sinned greatly in the eyes of the Lord, for agreeing to this compact."

"I bid you rise, daughter of the Lord," said Irina, flexing the feathery wings on her back. "Have faith in God's infinite will. I too have sacrificed much to be here, so you do not sin alone. But as ever we bear this suffering as children of the Lord, and I implore you remain with grace and love."

"Thank you, great angel," she said, her voice trembling.

Irina shook her head, then glanced at Koneko briefly. "In this Palace, we are equals, Asia Argento. Remember that, for the sake of the great work we have to do here."

"I will do my best."

"Thank you Koneko," Irina said, smiling.

"I fulfill my duty," she said, waving. It was slightly disconcerting to have one Heaven's most bloodthirsty angels, with a kill count of more than a thousand, smiling at her like this.

The last wife to be introduced was Rias Gremory herself, who waited on the balcony overlooking the Palace City. She invited the both of them to sit and to partake of tea. Asia looked rather wary of the great Devil wings the redhead openly flaunted behind her.

"First of all, I would like to formally welcome you to our fold, Asia Argento. Know that we will do everything in our power to keep you safe," Rias said.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Rias," the Devil repeated. She smiled. "Call me Rias, dear. We are all in this together, right?"

Asia nodded. Rias' gaze switched to her before going back.

"Have you any questions, my dear? Please, do not hesitate to ask."

"I… The Dragon," Asia said. "Do we ever meet him?"

"Our lord husband comes and goes as he pleases," said Rias. "And we can never really predict his presence, or his passing. Except, perhaps, on occasions where he needs to be there—like a wedding, for instance."

"I see."

"If you really wanted to see him, we can certainly arrange for a message to be sent." Though as ever it was never a sure bet that he would respond. Plenty of wives had done so in the past, most jockeying to gain some measure of favor from the Last Dragon by ingratiating themselves with him. He had ever disappointed them.

"No that's alright," Asia said. "I was merely… curious."

Rias shrugged. "Very well. Have you any other concerns?"

"Not at the moment."

Rias sipped her tea calmly, yet her dumbfounded gaze sought Koneko's.

"… Really? Are you sure?"

"No… If it pleases you, I would like to retire to my room, Rias. I need to pray."

"Do go on, then, Asia Argento," Rias said. They both watched the girl rise and curtsy, before she left.

"She's a human alright," Koneko remarked.

"Indeed," Rias said. The fact that she hadn't inquired about her living arrangements, like her attendants and such, was quite telling. Even the Angels, who preached of self-governance and independence, insisted on bringing minor Angels with them—though not as maids but as bodyguards. Though one could argue that Irina Shidou was herself a weapon that few would want to match, never mind the fact that the Last Dragon's Palace was literally made to be impregnable.

"And here I thought I'd regretfully inform her that I would be pulling out my attendants soon…" Rias said. "That being said, I do have to thank you, Koneko. As I see it, you performed splendidly."

"I always do my best," Koneko said. "So what will we do about her?"

"I've already made inquiries of the Compact bearers… Especially that Astaroth and his fellows…"

"They were behind this?" Koneko asked, brow raised.

"They suggested her, as I'm told," Rias said. "Though, to what end, I do not know…" She shook her head. "Regardless of whatever plot they've got brewing, I would still have them take responsibility for their candidate. Even if they end up sending spies or literal monkeys…"

Koneko frowned. She knew there was a plot afoot, she could literally smell it in the air; but she literally had no stomach for it, nor the patience. Especially when it had nothing to do with her. That was more her sister's strength, who was more skilled in subterfuge and deception.

"Hey, you think I could take tonight off?" she said suddenly. She looked straight into Rias' eyes. They shared a look of understanding. Obviously all the wives who were in on the "Arrangement", as it was called, were well aware of the façade, and of the need to maintain it. They would protect and cover for their fellow wives who indulged in the carnal pleasure, with the stipulation that they would do the same in reciprocation. And most of all, the secret had to be maintained, no matter what, or _everyone _would fall.

"Do try to be discreet," Rias said dismissively, as if such a thing was beneath her. Koneko resisted the urge to get up and laugh in her face; for she knew the harem head greatly enjoyed the Arrangement and always wanted to do it when she could. But she knew the woman had recently taken her detour to the mortal world, and she was well within her rights to call her out on it.

Instead, Koneko rose and bowed.

"I always do my best."

* * *

"Why did you bring her to me?" Issei asked.

"We hoped she would be… better suited to bear your young," said the voice.

"I tire of these games," he snapped.

"You are obligated to continue your race, sir Dragon," came another voice.

"It is, and always has been, an impossible task!" he roared.

"Give her a try," said the first voice. "Just this once, as you'd done before. Do this as a favor to us. If she fails, as the others did, then we shall make a vow never to bother you with it again."

"Why go to these lengths?" he rumbled. "If you want my body, or my powers, then kill me and be done with it!"

There was a pause, as if the voices on the other side was thinking. Then, a chorus of voices came.

"We are not fiends, my dear Dragon."

"We merely wish to preserve a state of balance."

"A clean slate."

"A fresh start."

"A new beginning."

"You owe it to those who came before."

"I owe nothing to NO ONE," Issei declared, and dismissed the connection. He grunted, feeling a surge of anger coursing through him. In this frame, it was dangerous, as he could obliterate the whole Palace, the city outside, and everyone within it, if he just let it go.

And a small voice inside did tell him, _why not_? Let go of fear, of anger, of the need to appease his purported masters. Let all fear the one who inherited the power of the Alien God, incarnated in the flesh of a mighty Dragon. He could certainly do it, and he knew there were many who would join him, just to exult in bringing chaos to the world.

But above all, Issei was a big softie, though he would never admit that. And he cared, in a way, for his "wives". They were like his family now, though he knew they would never think of it that way. Every wife who left his harem or entered it as a new wife was someone he would always remember for the rest of his life, even if they never spoke a single word to each other. He owed it to those who had departed after a long life of enduring him, and to those new ones offered up to him like sacrificial lambs.

Gloomily, he returned to the top of his tower. He looked down and wondered how the human was doing. Apparently she was "special" in some way, but he wouldn't dare exploit that fact. Not even for the prospect of reviving his dead race.

"You seem upset, my lord," said the magician, upon his return.

"You can say that again," he said.

"Then allow me to relieve you," she replied. "With the gift of a song, and another dream to remember."

"Oh, peddler of dreams, answer me this," Issei said. "How much would it cost to make it a reality?"

The magician cocked her head. "It would cost more than you're willing to give up, my lord. It would cost you everything."

* * *

**Apocrypha version (mature content) below**

P atreon: Shurpuff


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